Broken Stars
by Kokoro-and-Rei
Summary: “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly. But I wasn’t listening. I was concentrating on the feel of his cool hands on my face, on his musical voice, on the thick smell of him. It was all so familiar. Heartbreakingly familiar. New Moon Spoilers, Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: If I was lucky enough to own Edward Cullen, I would most definatly be with him - not here. ;)**

**A/N: This was written by a fairly angsty me after a messy break-up. Needless to say, it is a bit raw and emotional. Sorry :\ **

**Read and Review! **

Broken Stars

I woke up.

My thoughts scattered, and I struggled to clear my mind. I turned over to make sure Mike was still asleep. He was, and I rolled out of bed, stubbing my toe on the corner of my nightstand in the process.

Thoughts still thick with sleep, I walked unsteadily to the kitchen to get a drink. My eyes caught the flashing clock above the oven. 3:17 A.M. I sighed.

Frustrated, I tried to concentrate – to remember the dream that had caused me to wake up so suddenly. This hadn't happened in a long time… These forgotten nightmares…

I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose, annoyed at my dull memory. Annoyed at the dream.

I reached into the cabinet and found a glass. Slowly, still irritated, I filled it with water. As I brought it to my lips, I saw a flash of something outside. My body tensed.

_Should I wake up Mike?_

My mind raced. Suddenly frantic, I tried to assess the situation – to decide what would be best. The bedroom was a long-shot… If someone were staking out the house, they could easily jump at my slightest movement.

_Alexis._

I tried to suppress a violent shudder, and failed. I set my glass down on the counter and slowly, carefully, I opened the drawer to my left. I pulled out our steak knife. Terrified, I held it as tight as I could – my body shaking.

The glass door that connected our kitchen to the outside opened without the slightest noise. With my hand on the doorknob, I held my breath, wondering if I should have tried to dial the police, first. _Too late now. _

I took a step into the darkness.

The cold night air hit my cheeks, and I took in a deep breath. I took another step. I was completely outside now, and I closed the door determinedly behind me.

It all happened at once.

The knife was thrown from my grasp – a pair of bright hands covered my mouth before I realized I was trying to scream. My stomach coiled; a sour taste grew in my mouth. Tears sprung to my eyes. I was so stupid – so incredibly, helplessly _stupid!_

And then, as I began to sob, I was being embraced – the hands gone from my mouth.

"Bella." A soft, harmonic voice interrupted my tears.

My heart throbbed suddenly, my eyes flew open. I wrenched myself from his grasp to stand before… before _him._

And we stood like that – like stone – for a long while. Minutes passed, and I could feel the sour taste in the back of my throat now. I was going to be sick.

I realized all at once that it was a dream. My stomach felt better immediately, and I couldn't help but chuckle in spite of myself. The golden eyes narrowed in worry.

Without a word, I turned towards the house to go back to bed. Maybe, if I was lucky, I'd awake before I got to the bedroom.

Cold hands touched mine gingerly. They were tender, but kept me from moving all the same. I closed my eyes. I could feel the cold of his skin on mine. I could feel my heart throbbing, my chest constricting painfully. I felt my throat tighten, tasted the bitterness _again. _This was no dream.

And we were frozen once more. Me with my head down; keeping back tears. Him with his hands on mine… he was cautious, ever-so cautious.

"Why are you here?" I asked finally. I was surprised at how little my voice shook.

I heard him take a breath. He was preparing to respond.

And my heart exploded. My calm façade shattered. I pulled my hands from his and turned to stare him. Through my tears I could see the topaz of his eyes, the expression of sorrow that they held.

My breath caught, and tears spilled over the barrier I had so carefully held them behind.

"Do you know how long I waited?" I whispered, broken.

"Bella," he began - his voice husky; dejected.

And the past ten years flashed in my mind. I felt – like it was fresh – the breaking of my heart with his absence. I had been so certain he would return. And Jacob, so sure of himself – sure that he'd be able to fill the void… And he almost had.

The pack had dwindled, however, with time – and with _their_ absence. I left for college, intent on never returning. Mike Newton, however, ended up at the same school. We returned together; engaged.

I remembered our wedding. Alexis being born… The happiness that I had convinced myself was so genuine; so _real._ The void that once threatened to eat me alive returned now, and I felt my knees give out.

"Bella," he hummed softly, catching me before I could hit ground.

I was torn then, between two extremes.

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to scream, to cry. To show him what he had done to me. It would be impossible to express my pain; the bruises; the scars. But I wanted to try to show him – to blame him. I wanted to scream at him until he too cried, until he sobbed with remorse. I wanted to hurt him.

The weaker part of me wanted to kiss him. Hard, long, forcefully. I wanted desperately to feel his cool skin under mine, to wrap my arms around his neck and breathe in his scent. I wanted to run away with him and never return. I wanted the years that we had lost back – desperately.

I went with neither extreme. Instead, I broke down.

He held my limp, shaking form until I regained control as best as I could. Swiftly, he took my face in his hands and looked at me with those eyes, bright with pain – mirroring my own.

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly. But I wasn't listening. I was concentrating on the feel of his cool hands on my face, on his musical voice, on the thick smell of him. It was all so familiar. Heartbreakingly familiar.

"Why?" I gasped through my tears.

Why did you leave? Why didn't you return? Why are you back now? Why do you want to hurt me…? Why?

Why does it still hurt so badly?

He shook his head fervently, his brow creased with hesitation. I could see him desperately looking for the words that would not come. There were not words enough to explain my simple question. No words could explain away ten years of abandonment.

"I wanted you all along," he said roughly, in a whisper I almost didn't hear.

"It's too late, now," I moaned hysterically; fresh tears building.

He nodded. He understood.

"My Bella," he whispered, his eyes blazing into mine.

"I am a fool. A fool for thinking you would be better off… I… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for coming here, for making you hurt again," his voice was filled with grief, with regret. My heart wrenched and twisted in my chest.

"I love you, always."

His cold lips met with mine, and I felt for a moment his strong arms around me, holding me to the ground.

And then I was alone.

There was a small knock on the door behind me. I jumped and turned to see a small face and a head full of curls peering out to me. Numb, I walked forward and opened the door.

"Mommy?" she said, her voice small and drowsy. Alexis stood before me shivering, her tiny frame curling into my legs.

"Let's go back to sleep, baby," I picked her up, listening to her soft heartbeat, to her long, steady breaths.

With wistfulness that there are not quite words enough to express, I turned towards the door once more. There was nothing outside – yet, somehow, I knew better.

"I love you, Edward." The name should have felt foreign on my tongue. I hadn't said it in ten years. My voice was shaking, almost silent - but I was sure he'd heard me.

And with tears clouding my vision, I carried my daughter back to bed.


End file.
